Ordinary day
by Rkaren
Summary: He was just a boy. An ordinary boy, or so Felice thought.
1. Chapter 1

I opened my eyes as a floorboard creaked in the next room

I opened my eyes as a floorboard creaked in the next room. I rolled my eyes in the darkness, imagining what game the boys were playing tonight. Last night they were pirates sailing to the Bermuda triangle, only to find their passage blocked by the formidable kraken, which was ironically played by tiny, feathered Tommy Haines.

Oh, how I wish the walls between the girl's and boy's dormitory was sound proof! Rolling over, I covered my head with my pillow, only to be attacked by the sound of cannons and gunshots. What were they thinking? Every night I couldn't sleep because of them yet the head mistress continued to do nothing. I guess it was only the girls she hated. The girl in the bed next to mine started to talk in her sleep, wailing and tossing franticly. Nightmares were common around here.

"Mommy, please don't go. Don't leave me. I love you. Mommy?"

We've all had nightmares, but most of us keep them to ourselves, not wanting the head mistress to hear and get angry. She hates children, but not as much as she hates the parents who bring them into the world and dump them on her doorstep. She especially hates me, why, I don't particularly know. I guess I was just unlucky. If only I could find a four leaf clover or a pot of gold. I've been to a total of five different orphanages, my first one being when I was a tot, too little to remember anything. I stayed there for a year, or so I've been told and after that everything was a blur. Well, at least up until a week ago, when I learned I was finally going to be adopted. It's not completely final yet and though I haven't seen them, I'm hopeful. I can just imagine them, kind yet nervous, happy yet afraid. The man will be tall with a handsome brow and warm brown eyes. His wife will be tall and willowy with long dark curls and high cheekbones and an award-winning smile. That would be perfect.

Shouts interrupted my thoughts, causing me to loose my patience. I threw the covers off me, the cold spreading through me, bringing with it pain. I wrapped my blanket around me, creating a soft, snug cocoon that drove out the cold. I tiptoed over to the door, floorboards groaning with my every step. Removing my arm from my cocoon, I leaned over and turned the ice-cold doorknob. It was locked, just as I knew it would be. I reached up and tugged at my hair, letting the hairpin fall into my palm. Forcing it into the keyhole, I wrestled with it until I heard the soft groaning of the door welding under my pressure. The head mistress never trusts us children, believing them to be the spawn of the devil. I don't know about that, but I will agree with her that you should never trust us, were just too mercurial. For example, only today I was giggling and joking around with John O'Ryan, being the best of friends, and now I would like nothing better than to see him shot out of a cannon.

The hallway was dark and creepy, the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. Only the thought of shutting up the boys once and for all drove me on. The door stood crookedly, as if an earthquake had occurred. And listening to the commotion within I didn't doubt it. The hairpin took longer this time as if the door was purposely trying to keep me from entering. When it finally gave up the room had gone quiet and all I could see was darkness. The cold froze me in my tracks and my eyes settled upon the open window. Wasting no time I leaped over to the window and slammed it shut, praying all the while that the head mistress had her earplugs in tonight.

When I turned around everything was still. Not even a breath interrupted the silence. I leaned over the beds and saw the messy hair of my friends and enemies. Tommy Haines started to snore rather loudly than ceased abruptly. I crept over to his bed and stood there for a few minutes, listening to his quick, uneven breaths. I was just about to turn around and pretend to leave when I saw an unfamiliar head sticking out of one of the beds. To make sure, I counted every boy and was surprised to find there were three more than there should have been. Were they playing a trick on me or was my eyesight going bad?

I looked around for the one object that could help me and smiled when I spotted the gleaming copper wick in the corner. I had never been in the boy's dormitory before and all the crap on the ground disgusted me when I put a match to the candle. There were broken, misshapen toys scattered everywhere and I wondered how I ever managed to avoid them.

Picking my way through the minefield, I found the bed with the stranger hidden beneath its sheets. I was nervous, but I couldn't explain why. My hand shaking with spasms, I directed the light to my unknowing target and suppressed a shock to find no one was there. The bed was empty. Suspiciously I looked around, missing nothing. Where was he? I took a step forward, only to trip and land painfully on my back. I heard laughter and the creaking of the window being opened. Screaming with frustration I bounded to my feet and witnessed the most curious sight. A boy. But no ordinary boy. He stood in front of the window with his hands on his hips. He was decked in green from head to foot and flashed his pearly white teeth in a cocky smile. Then, with barely a backward glance, he jumped out of the window to his doom, or so I thought. St. Catherine's Orphanage had three floors and a concrete street below. You would have to be made out of rubber to survive a fall like that.

I screamed. Who wouldn't? Two of the boys rushed past me and headed toward the window, only they didn't slow when they approached it. Not wanting any more casualties I raced after them and caught hold of the last one's foot as he disappeared from view. I guess I had thought that I could just pull him to safety. The problem was that I hadn't calculated his weight and before I knew what was happening, I was plummeting after him. People say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes, but what if you had no life to watch except for a small, dirty room filled with small, dirty children?

So as I sped downward, all I could see was darkness, which probably represented my sad, empty life. I wanted to cry in self-pity but I told myself I was not going to die blubbering like a baby. When the mistress found my body I'd be smiling with a face that read, "Hello Dorothy, what a beautiful morning, I wish I could see your sorry ass looked behind bars."(only thing I could think of)

Down I went, faster, faster, a stupid grin pasted on my face. But fate would not allow me to die, at least not now, not like this. I felt a sharp pain jerk through my body as I recoiled like a bungee cord. Someone or something had caught me. I took a breath of relief that was instantly stilled as I realized that my hand was empty. I had let go. I had killed the boy.

There was a catch though. When looking down to see the awful crime I committed, my eyes popped out of my head. It was like the boy in the bed. There one minute, gone the next. All that was below me was a street, and though it was dirty and reeked of rotten fish and dead rats, it was just your average street. No blood. No guts. No boy.

And then I saw him. It was while I was unconsciously being lifted higher into the darkened, star speckled sky. He was flying, actually flying. Just like a bird, only he didn't have wings and he was gliding back and fourth, smiling lazily. This had to be a dream and if it wasn't then I was certainly going crazy. I mean, I had read about flying people in old fairy tales, but it had always been make believe. It had always been a different world, a world to escape to from your troubles and enjoy yourself. A place where you never had to strive for happiness or freedom. It was there, your own little perfect world inside your messed up head. It wasn't supposed to be real; everyone knew that, or at least I thought so.

I was suddenly jerked from my thoughts when the something holding me up by my foot tossed me into the sky like a kite. Strong arms enveloped me on my way down, protecting me from my ever-hovering doom. I opened one eye than the other, afraid to gaze upon the face of my rescuer. If I was expecting to see an angelic person with a halo of light entwined in their golden locks, I was thoroughly disappointed. The face that stared down at me was sharp and fair, the mouth twisted into a wicked grin. Reddish brown hair fell past his brow in a jumbled mess. The eyes though, drew me the most, captivating me with an immortal glow. They sparkled like stars, two amber stones in the vast expanse of human knowledge.

I felt myself being carried through the air, not toward the dorm window, but in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me?" I whispered, surprised by the sound of my voice after the void of silence.

He smiled crookedly, his eyes filled with ecstasy and adventure. "Second star to the right, straight on till morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Questions flooded my head. _Who are you? Where are you from? Where are we going? _But once he started to soar into the clouds with me clutched to his chest, all thoughts were forgotten. I felt as if I was made of air, as if I wasn't surrounded by the boundaries of my skin, as if I was a spirit floating around in nothingness, not knowing where I came from or where I was going. I threw my head back (accidentally striking the boy in the face with my hair) and imagined myself one of the city pigeons that I would gaze at for hours from the windowsill. But my emotions were too big for those small, one-minded birds, and I thought about the majestic eagles I had so admired from the pages of a worn book. It ended too soon, but I refused to open my eyes or bring my arms back to my side, hopping to prolong this blissful moment. I did not have a choice, though, when my rescuer dropped me to the ground.

It was probably only a distance of three feet, but still, he should at least given me a warning. I brushed myself off, watching the sand and pebbles I had collected in my nightdress fall into a neat little pile at my feet. A loud, booming roar filled the air, causing me to jump back in surprise. I cautiously raised my head, feeling a strange, yet welcoming warm breeze caress my face. I let out a gasp of wonderment at the sight before me. Crystal blue as far as the eye could see, shimmering and sparkling, the greatest jewel of all. _The ocean_.

I breathed deeply, drawing the moist salt air into my lungs. Stepping forward, I felt the wind pull on my nightdress, billowing it behind me. When I gently placed my foot in the water, I felt it creep slowly up my leg, begging me to play. I took another step forward mesmerized by the slow lapping of the waves. _Come_, it beckoned, _feel my warmth, see my wonders, be part of me and my power._ The water was up to my waist by now; all it would take was one more step, one small step. I raised my foot in anticipation, the ocean growing stronger. I shrieked in pain as something yanked my hair, pulling me up and away from my doom.

This time I landed safely on the ground, far away from the ocean. Trees clustered around me and animals skittered through the branches. I turned around, only to stare into a pair of dark brown eyes.

"Who are you?" I blurted out.

"Peter Pan, who else?" the boy asked, surprised.

"Peter, who?" I could instantly see the hurt in his eyes, as if I had hit him.

He recovered quickly and smiled, all traces of self doubt gone, dispersed into the canopy of trees that sheltered of heads. "Why, I'm the great, the magnificent, the all powerful protector of the lost boys." He said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Well", I said, trying to think of a title for myself that was just as conceited as his. "I'm the just, loyal, and caring mother of the children of St. Mary's orphanage on 15th street, also known as Felice Marie Collins."

His face perked up when I said the word "Mother", as if it held a special power over him and at once leaped toward me and took my hand. "Felice Marie Collins, will you be our mother, I mean, the lost boys and I, we have so been longing for one."

I was left speechless. He, this boy right in front of me, starring at me with such innocence, was asking me to be his _mother_? He couldn't be any younger than I was, could he? "Peter, how old are you and the lost boys?"

"Well, let me see, I'm the oldest, which would make me about thirteen years old."

"Exactly" I smiled gently, as if telling a child that their favorite toy had been thrown out because it was too old. "I'm fourteen, one year older than you are. Don't you think it would be a little strange?"

"Strange, not at all. You're fourteen and I'm fifteen, which makes it just perfect." He explains, a triumph smile beginning to show.

 I gaped at him. One minute he says he's thirteen, the next fifteen and then he says that its fine to have a mother be younger than her child! It made no sense; maybe flying affected your brain.

I turned my back to him and tried to walk away, but his hand remained on my arm. I looked up to tell him to get lost when my gaze met his. I was captivated, and something told me that he felt it too. He cautiously raised his hand and brushed it along my check, causing me to shake uncontrollably. He did not notice and brought his face close to mine. For a second I thought he would kiss but then…

"Please", he whispered, his warm breath on my face, "be our mother."

Still captivated, all I could do was nod stupidly. His face at once brightened and he lifted a few feet off the ground, pulling me with him.

"I can't wait for you to meet the lost boys. You'll get along swell with them. And  then you'll have to meet the mermaids and the savages and I'll take you to see the pirates, hopefully they're in a bad mood."

"Peter", I screamed, my wrist being wrenched from its socket.

Finally he gave me a glance and frowned, dropping me on the ground. His smile soon returned, it seemed never to be far from his face.

"You wait here", he called, and disappeared into the dense forest, leaving me utterly alone and bewildered.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I was surrounded. Trapped. The trees bowed over me, calling to me just as the ocean had. This time, though, I had a plan. I ran in the direction Peter had gone, screaming his name franticly, pushing my way through the dense foliage. But no matter how loud I screamed all I got for an answer was the hoot of an overly annoying owl. _Hoot Hoot Hoot Ho- _I threw a rock where the noise was coming from. Sighing with relief at the silence I tried to remember in what direction I had been going. Was it left? Or maybe right? I decided on left, seeing as I was left handed, and began my ill-fated journey. I did not get to far before I started to feel as if someone or something was following me. I began to get paranoid, turning my head around so much that my neck started to throb. My brain was telling me to stay were I was and wait for Peter but my body told me to run, run hard. I scampered off like a frightened rabbit when a cricket chirped, but I didn't stop.

Next thing I new something was whizzing in the air behind me, there was a loud _thud_ and my world went dark. When I came to, I was gazing into the face of a girl. She was about my age and she stared at me with never-ending curiosity. I tried to get up but realized too late that I was tied up to a tree. The girl jumped back, screeching like a barn owl and picked up a stick and attempted to poke me with it. I struggled with my bonds, desperately trying to find a weakness in the cords that were biting into my flesh. Suddenly, something jumped down from the sky, landing softly on the earth. _Peter_, I thought, but was disappointed when I was met with a dark, unfeeling look from the new comer. He was tall, perhaps six feet. He was covered with branches for camouflage. _He must have been hiding in the tree the whole time_, a shiver went down my spine. How many other spies did these strange people have? For surely they were strange, wearing only a few scraps of cloth and no shoes, their skin a golden brown and black hair in long braids down their backs.

They started talking to each other, at least, I think they were talking. Their voices came in rasps and grunts, no spaces between their words, just a breath after a particularly long outburst of sounds. Finally, and rather unfortunately, they turned toward me and the man approached with his knife, holding it threateningly close to my exposed neck. I thought for sure my time was up, but instead of a sharp blade biting into my skin, a worn, rough hand grabbed my chin and brought my head up to look into the creature's eyes. They were human, but different. Unlike the eyes I was so used to seeing, so innocent and scared, his eyes were wise and clever, strong and powerful, brave and unafraid. Everything I had always wanted to be.

With those inhuman eyes he studied me, pulling at my nightdress as if he had never seen cotton before, pulling the few pins I still had in my hair out, sniffing and even tasting them. Yet, even as he did this, every second or so his eyes would be drawn back to mine, inspecting them as if they were alien to him. It was nerve-wracking, but I passed the test. He retraced his steps back to the girl and once again talked to her, this time using hand gestures that I could understand as well. First he pointed to his eyes, then to me, then to the sky. The girl nodded and pointed to the sky, then made a strange symbol with her hands, like flowing water. When the man came back to me, his arm with the knife was by his side and when he was inches away from me he ran a hand along my cheek, as Peter had done, only this time the shivers down my back were unpleasant. He took the knife and brought it to the ropes, sawing through them in less than a minute.

I stumbled to my feet, rubbing my arms and letting out the breath that I had been holding. The girl came over and touched my arm as if in comfort. "You?" she asked, her accent so strong it was hard to understand what she was asking. "You" I repeated, as comprehension dawned on me. "Oh, Felice." I waited for her to say her name, but she seemed memorized by the pronunciation of mine. Funny, I always thought it was boring and wished a could have a name like Carolina or Kathleen. I jumped when someone came from behind me and took my arm in a clasp iron grip, relaxing only slightly when the man's face loomed in front of my vision. He made another harsh noise and strode ahead, dragging me along with him.

I glared at the girl as she skipped past me, clearly excited about something. After about three minutes in on our little "stroll" she started to sing and though I couldn't understand the words, it was eerily beautiful. Like the ocean's song, but hers was neither menacing nor dangerous. It was hard to put into words, but it was like an ointment you put on a cut, a medicine for the soul. The trees thinned and I smelled smoke in the distance, reminding me of the nights I would lay down with my fellow orphans before the fire, telling stories of the parents we'd never met.

A lonely tear fell down my dirt-streaked face, and, for the first time in my life, I wished I could see the head mistress. Her stern face and cold eyes, her stubbornness and her ability to take over anything and anyone. Her strong presence would have been such a comfort to me and I could just imagine her saying "What, your going to give up so easily? You're a wimp, did you know that? First time I saw you on my doorstep I said to myself, Dorothy, that puny thing is never going to amount to much. Almost left you out there too, I did, but something told me that you weren't completely wasteless. Well nows your chance, be something or you'll always be orphan. A filthy, worthless, unloved tramp with nothing but your sad, little memories. And trust me, that's no life. So suck it up girl and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Her voice dispersed and I wasn't sure if it had done me any good. Sighing, I prayed Peter would come before it was too late. Even though my two captors hadn't shown any hostility towards me, it did not guarantee their friends wouldn't. The man screeched to unseen allies, shattering my eardrums.

An answering call came shortly afterwards and people started to come out from behind the trees, especially children who looked happy to be able to ran and play instead of work like their elders. _Use your innocence while it lasts _I thought sadly and a bit bitterly.

Now I had a whole crowd to escort me to my unknown fate, which I hoped would end happily ever after. But I new better and pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I studied this new species. The men all looked the same, a braid down their back, golden skin, high cheekbones, stern faces and no clothing except for a cloth around the waist. The women, though, were vibrant. They wore wreaths of flowers in their hair, which tumbled down their backs in soft dark wavelets. Their dresses would have been plain if it had not been for the colorful veins of thread and cascade of beads that permeated the cloth. The children ran naked, experiencing a feeling a freedom that I feared I never would. They smiled hesitantly at me, trying to decide if I was a friend of foe. A sharp command from a parent when they wandered too close revealed the latter.

And so the children made up a game, one that prevented me from keeping a straight face. They would stalk me, walking on lightest of toes. Then, when the adults weren't looking, they made a run for it. The goal was to touch me before the adults noticed and if they were caught in the act they had to go to the back of the line. None succeeded, and one even got kicked by a parent whose patience was all but gone. The walk seemed to take hours, but in reality I arrived at the entrance to hut in mere minutes. We waited outside while the man went inside, giving me time to examine the strange structure. It was round, like if you have a rubber ball and you cut it in half. It was covered in grass, sticks, leaves, reeds, branches, you name it. The doorway was rectangular and had a piece of cloth hanging in front of it for privacy.

A grunt came from within its depth and the man returned to once again take my arm and lead me to the end of my journey. It was dark at first as my eyes adjusted to the glare of the fire. Finally, when everything ceased being fuzzy, I took in my surroundings. The room was empty except for the fire in the middle of the room, a couple of animal skins on the ground and a stooped figure sitting with his back to us. "Come' said a voice that was weak with age, but one that drew my attention instantly. The man let go of my arm reluctantly, as if he was afraid I might hurt the old man, whose voice had betrayed him . He was sick, I could tell by the whisper of coughs, so small you almost could not hear them, but just as deadly. I stepped carefully over to the other side of the fire and sat down across from him. His face, it was so strange, so different, and yet so familiar. It seemed stern, yet soft, brave, yet afraid, cruel, yet motherly. It was as if all the people of the world had been morphed into one mouth, one nose, one set of eyes. I started to wonder if this truly was a man, for the face seemed a cross between the two sexes and I got the feeling that I would never know.

"They call me Cheveyo, or spirit warrior. You have many questions, young one, but I am tired and getting older by the day. The answer to the question you are asking yourself is neither. I have no gender, for I am a spirit walker. One who comes to guide the spirits to the Mother, who will give them another form to take for their next life. I have been here too long, which is the reason for my mortal illness. Alas, I have been with mortals so long I am becoming one. If I were to return to the Mother I would die all the more quickly.

"My next answer is yes and no. I can speak the language you call English, as you can very well hear for yourself. No one taught it to me, for the knowledge is in my head, as is all the knowledge of the world. But there are no other English-speaking beings on this island, excepting Peter and the lost boys, of course, whom you will get the pleasure of meeting in just a few minutes. If there are no more questions? Good, now listen closely. The questions I have left unanswered are the ones you must find for yourself, for I cannot tell you who you are, and most certainly not if you are going to die. I find them both disappointing, for it is only you who can shape your future. A warning, though, may be necessary. Never let anyone else decide your fate, even if it seems the easiest way out. For though the hard road is difficult, it has the most rewards. Whenever you are ready to give up, know that the end is always near, you just have to take another step."

He breathed deeply, then his body started to shake with fits of coughing which he had been holding in. I got up to go, trying to grasp everything he told me. His withering voice stopped me and I turned around for the last time.

"A long journey is ahead of you, one that is treacherous and has dire consequences. If you have any trouble, just look to the stars and help will come, in all different shapes and sizes. Know this, though, nothing is too small to be of service." He groaned and collapsed on the floor. I didn't know what to do, so, ignoring his advice, I took the easiest way out and ran.


End file.
